Violet Eyes

Chapter 1

VIOLET

I sat at the window, watching the patterns of the stains on the glass be illuminated by the sunlight. Outside was the movement of bodies, young kids in the street with bicycles and balls. It was like they were in a different world.

My arm rested on the window sill, just inches away from the rectangle-shaped ray of light that shone like a spotlight on the cold polished wood. The sunlight played with the pane in the most marvellous way. But I knew if I had to reach out my hand to touch it…

“Violet! Get away from there!” Aunt Christa yelled as she rushed towards me, tugging my arm away from the window.

“Looks like we’ll have to get the windows covered up again” her hands were on her hips in the most ironic motherly pose.

“Please no Aunt Christa” I protested, looking down and feeling as though a rock had dropped into my stomach.

“You like watching them… The humans” she said, closing the curtains while eyeing the children with an eerie grin forming on her face.

Her tone immediately changed as she turned to face me, “You better get dressed, Vi, your sisters are already going to school”

I’m fourteen, so you might find it strange why my older sisters of seventeen and eighteen are attending school, yet I’m not. Well, let’s just break the ice already: We’re a family of vampires.

When born a vampire, at age sixteen you are seen as ‘fully mature’. Which means you start gaining real valuable powers, such as mind reading, mind melding, super strength, super speed and hypnosis. There are even other powers further beyond what Aunt Christa or my dad has.

All powers I currently have is to walk on walls, some knock-off Spider girl I am huh?

Shuffling through into the hallway I get pushed by Rose, the eldest, “Move out of the way, brat” she grumbles, trit-trotting away on her high-heel shoes. When not long after, Scarlet, the second eldest bumps me right into the wall.

“Hey!” I say, but in response I get a hiss as her sharp fangs are put on display for me.

Backing away slowly I watch both of them as they leave. You’d think sisters would at least try you know? Try to get along and try to love each other, but not one of us have ever really gotten along with one another.

I think it just hits me harder cause I’m different to everyone in my family. The distinct features of the Van der Trump family are a beauty mark under the right eye and red eyes (which they conceal with contact lenses of course). Hanging on the walls of our house are pictures upon pictures of relatives from thousands of years ago. Not one of them have my freckles, my non-existent blood lust. Or my violet eyes.

ROSE

I knew getting dad to buy me this convertible would be a good investment for both of us, now he doesn’t have to drive to school and I can watch Scarlet have to climb into the school bus, plus I get such a sweet ride.

It’s a win-double-win situation.

It wasn’t like he could say anything in protest either though. It is tradition in my family that once the eldest born reaches the ripe age of 16 they will be allowed freedom to make their own decisions without parental supervision. Brandished on my right arm is the black snake, a symbol of responsibility and wisdom in the vampiric world, it is my mark. Too bad I’m just not up to the task of having all this responsibility. But hey, being able to make my own decisions without daddy butting in, that is something I will continue to enjoy.

I arrive in school, still getting stares from the guys that stand around. They know the main b***h is in town now. “You like what you see?” I smirk, grabbing my bag and locking my car and winking at them as I walk past.

Little do any of them know that I’ve already sucked all of them halfway dry.

There’s this game I like to play, where I tick off the list every guy in school that I find worthy, take them on a date, make them my meal then make sure that they don’t remember a thing. Anyone in school that dears gossip about me, loses a memory they hold dear. Oh yeah, that’s something us vamps can do too, erase valuable memories you’ve had before.

Daddy says I’m an early bloomer because I’m able to do that. Apparently, you only gain that power at age 21.

As I walk into school I’m bombarded by the cheerleading team. They asked me questions on the Summer Bash that I had been arranging as well, wondering about routines and attires.

“Girls, I have everything under control kay? All you guys have to worry about is coming to the practices!I said in my most sugary sweet voice possible.

It wasn't easy being cheerleading captain or being part of the student council, but hey, the stares I got from all the boys in school every time I was near them always made my day. My vampiric pheromones working again. Despite all the stress, this is a charmed life for an 18-year-old girl.

SCARLET

The school bus always sucked. Walking off it was the best part of riding it. I pushed past all the smelly, sweaty, acne-infested kids to get to the door the moment the bus stopped, throwing whoever protested at me the finger without even looking back.

School is vile. I learned that early last year already.

The school bell rings just as I walk into the building. The children and classes seem to blur into one another. I only respond when spoken to which isn’t often. The teachers and students all seem to gravitate away from me since I dress as what the love child of Joan Jett and Paul Stanley would look like. Basically, a softcore rock punk.

I guess there just aren’t enough people in this school that appreciate my sense of humour or style in that way. except when lunch came around.

Through the back doors, across the football field, behind a tool shed hidden amongst the trees. There. There was our oasis. A private place for the outcasted teens of the school. The forgotten, mouldy, leftovers in the fridge that is Bridgeton High.

I slide down against the shed wall, feeling like I belong, like I’m appreciated, for now at least. This was where I came to write lyrics in my ‘diary’. Lyrics or poetry or whatever you wanted to call it. I liked to sing them alone in my room from time to time. I listen to one of the guys in the group strum to a guitar, trying to make the clock turn, just a little faster.